Like, you know?
by KeepingAmused
Summary: Living with the Scarlets has a few perks, mind. Warning: Season 2 Djaq-esque pigeon obsession. After Chapter 15 of 'It Never Ends for Dooh Nibor'. Penelope's POV.


**As I try to disentangle the plot for It Never Ends For Dooh Nibor, I thought I'd post this!**

**Depending on how you interpret Penelope, this piece could be babble/insightful/creative/nonsense. But read with an open mind for abstractness :)**

Wearing a fluorescent helmet and grey leggings; I seem to have forgotten where I stashed my jeans on this wild adventure. Perhaps, like, Marie lost them in her battle with Will's washing machine. Like, to the unforgiving denim-eating forces in the detergent. Or, the crows had feasted on the threads whilst it hung on the washing line...Scarlet Junior knows what I'm talking about. I will defeat the enemy in the morning.

I inch a careful path around these craggy rocks of glass...The ground sparkles. Hmm. It smells of vodka and vomit.

Yummy.

Wow! There's more birds near the shops – like, fatter and burbling. Pigeons are so beautiful. The only disease they carry is, like, their infectious love for food. I plan on sparing them some of the hot chips from my great journey.

After I open and close the newsagent's door five times (five is my favourite number) until the man makes upside-down smiles at the _ping_ noise, I wander towards seas of shiny plastic. There are so many faces and words and rainbow rings on one DVD that it seems almost, like, greedy to have so much attention, you know?

Bum. They're all, like, awful films.

Oh! I spot a gem on my travels: 'Pocahontas'. I'm sure Saffiyah won't mind watching it with me, she likes foreign things.

"Would you like some help, miss?"

Like, of course I need some help. I am trapped in a world of blank eyes and itchy ash and the cash register churns with disgusting whirs instead of nice _pings_, you know? Working in this plastic container all day would suffocate me...Thank the Lord that I am wonder-woman on a mission to save Nottingham from Dr. Bad.

I believe that the aliens of this planet need guidance and lush, green glades and apple trees. They need to plant a few in the corner shop. I don't believe they understand outsiders so I ask the native sales assistant slowly. "Would _you_ like some help, traveler?"

He backs away, confusion on his young face. Like, as always.

Chips, glorious chips! Crunching bricks of yellow, swimming through thick bubbles as I press my nose against the glass, watching them being shoveled into rustling houses. I grab my paper bag and remember the Chinese fortune I read today as I slide a pound along the counter. It's, like, out of kindness that I should spare the man wisdom so valuable, you know?

"A broken heart can be healed by new love," I say. _Wisely_. Actually, I heard that Keira Knightly eats fortune cookies.

I'm pleased. The till-man _ho-ho-hos_ and raps his knuckles on my helmet as if I'm a toddler and, with a _ting_ of the front door, I edge around the shards of crystal glass, again, clenching my fists so that my Pokemon powers will create a raging storm to blow the smashed bottles towards the Heavens...Perhaps I _am_ a toddler.

Morning, morning, morning! I can never _wait_ until morning, but, like, I can't remember why I get so excited. I wear Scarlet Junior's boxers, tonight. My daily adventure ends well with a cottony backside as I curl up like a kitten before garish lights and listen to Pocahontas sing through Saffiyah's snores.

Scarlet Senior pinches Saff's nose until she wakes and shoves my fellow adventurer off the sofa. He falls, flailing, off the cliff. I giggle as Mr Dan hobbles into the living room to giggle with me at the injured explorer, although, I don't think a broken photographer will help me mark the milestones on my epic journey.

Allan wakes the others with Scottish dancing while I, like, hold my tongue. Because it's obviously Irish. All I have to do is laugh and he throws a warning glare in my direction, as if I have placed the explorers in a shark tank and Marie's baby is in grave danger...He needs to lighten up about the _dizzy fleurs_. Seriously.

Trumpet sounds! Our leader returns from his dangerous duties.

Sir Robin enters the meeting and I warn him that if his fringe grows any longer, it will smother his eyes and curl into his pupils until he's, like, permanently blind. I receive another confused frown to add to my collection of confused frowns.

La-la-la-la-la-lala-lala-la-la. 'Pandemic', la-la-lala-lala-la-la. Like, such a minor medical glitch will not block an adventurer's path. I mean, Saff's a doctor, right? However, the gang panic and _frown_ until morning.

Oh, the morning...

My fellow adventurers complain about the morning chills but the broken heater does not bother an ice princess such as myself. I, now an ice princess, lie half-awake on my throne of frozen bodies – as Allan, like, winges about my pointy elbows digging into his ribs (like, I care?) – and a small servant sits at my heels with a flame between his hands. Or maybe I imagine it. A flickering flick. Not a _ting_. A lighter sounds...And I can feel warmth on my blue toes, saving the ice queen from deadly frost bite.

He, like, thinks I don't know it, but I always feel Much warming my feet in the morning.

I remember now; that's the first thing I love about the morning. Birdsong at dawn comes a close second, of course. However, I can no longer whistle like Snow White with my winged-fellows after Allan and Mr Dan shooed me off the rooftops. Pity.

But I _love_ birds. They're just so...free. It, like, makes me so jealous that I want them to drop dead from the sky. But I feel bad, so I don't mean that.

I love and want lots of things in life, you know? Like; roller-blades, chips, things that glitter, watching geese fly overhead, bluebells, thick-rimmed specs, Saffiyah's tea, skate-wear, Greek mythology and rainbows...and _dizzy fleurs_. But I _hate_ boxes, when plastic replaces glass, the word 'slut', metal tins and scabby hands.

And dead birds. Ew.

I love and want _lots _of things in life, like, I always want more and more and more...And I eventually love some things more than others. I'm like the blue cookie-monster from Sesame Street who lives in, like, a crappy bin his whole life but eats his weight in biscuits...Until he explodes into hairy crumbs.

But I'm no blue monster.

I am Ice Queen Penelope! - Who wants more of everything. And I demand for more stories from Ancient Greece, more fat pigeons, lots of chips and a four-eyed servant to warm my feet _all day long_.

You know?


End file.
